


I Say Fever - Encore

by un-shit-yourself (fenix_down)



Series: I Say Fever AU [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Fluff, Humor, I Say Fever AU, M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:37:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5389412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenix_down/pseuds/un-shit-yourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic pieces from the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5056243">I Say Fever</a> world that don't really fit into the main narrative. I don't know what all will end up here, but I figured this should get added for now, just in case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Say Fever - Encore

**Author's Note:**

> Originally done as a prompt for [kinloch-ho](http://kinloch-ho.tumblr.com), but I loved it and it fit in perfectly with what I was going to do with the chapterfic. Takes place a year before the events of the main fic, when Fenris was still living with Hawke.

Hawke lept over the sofa when the doorbell rang, startling both the dog and the UPS deliveryman with his enthusiasm. Fenris eyed the long and narrow box suspiciously when it came into the house, holding his tongue until Hawke presented the fiberglass contact staff to him triumphantly.

“You’re an idiot,” Fenris had said. “You’re going to hurt yourself, and I’m going to laugh.”

His roommate’s assurances that he would be fine, and that he’d “done his research on YouTube” and he was “completely cool and stop worrying” turned out to be empty, which was no surprise to Fenris. It took actual persuasion for him to not light the ends of the staff on fire for his first attempt at spinning in the backyard, which should have been foreshadowing enough. Despite the ends of the staff being wrapped in tight rope, the force of impact when Hawke inevitably slammed it into his face left him with a potentially broken nose and a gash along his forehead.

Fenris didn’t laugh; he simply sighed, got a towel for Hawke to hold against his face, and shoved him into the car to take him to the ER while having to deal with Hawke’s cursing and lamentations for his now-ruined good looks.

They sat in the waiting room for only an hour before being sent back for examination, and by that time, Hawke was trying to look on the bright side. “At least it wasn’t on fire,” he said cheerfully, bouncing his leg and making Fenris twitch.

“Yes, thank the Maker for small miracles.”

“I mean, my beard would have been destroyed, and that would have been, just, the end of my life.”

The curtain to their area drew back and a tall, pale nurse with a messy knot of blonde hair and obnoxious kitten scrubs looked up from his clipboard at them. “Mr. Hawke?”

Hawke’s leg stilled, and Fenris almost heard the dazzling smile appear on his face, half covered by a new and already soaked towel. “Just Hawke,” he said, and Fenris sighed and fought the urge to leave for a cigarette. His fate had been sealed as Hawke’s voice of reason long ago, he should just accept it.

“Mmm-hmm,” the nurse said, apparently unimpressed with the attempt at charm from someone bleeding from the forehead. “I’m Anders. Let’s check you out and see what we have.” He gently removed the towel from Hawke’s face, surveying the damage, and when he had a clear view of Hawke’s grin Fenris noticed his ears turn pink. “That’s… something. What happened?”

“Just an accident,” Hawke said.

“He hit himself in the face with a pole,” Fenris clarified.

“Well, yeah,” his roommate replied, “I do fire-staff spinning. You know, awesome stuff.”

“He watched two videos on the internet, bought a staff, and injured himself within 60 seconds of acquiring it.”

Anders looked between them, expression shifting between incredulous and amused. “Does this happen a lot?” he asked Fenris.

“Yes,” he said, while Hawke said, “No.”

“Normally I’m much better at handling staves.” Hawke had the audacity to wink, but the effect was ruined when the action caused blood to trickle into his vision. Anders made a noise that sounded like he was going to cough up a hairball.

“Stitches,” he said, recovering, and Hawke’s face fell. “Might have a slight scar. But your nose is fine, if swollen.”

“Thank the Maker for small miracles,” Hawke grumbled.

Fenris had to endure Hawke’s painful attempts at flirting through jokes and looking at the nurse with hearts in his eyes, and Anders’ determined attempts at not blushing from his proximity to Hawke and keeping his stitching even. After what seems like an eternity for everyone but Hawke, Anders finally finished and handed his patient discharge papers with a clever comment about not getting hit in the face again if he can help it.

“I’ll try, but it’d be nice if I had someone to help me handle my staff.” Hawke grinned, and it was far more charming now that he was cleaned up, aside from the bruising around his face.

“…Nngh,” Anders whimpered.

“Leaving,” Fenris said, and dragged Hawke from the exam room by his elbow.


End file.
